


darkest of skies

by brokke



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Angst, M/M, Protectiveness, Suspense, Unknown Enemy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:53:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27206932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brokke/pseuds/brokke
Summary: Sleep was threatening when he spotted the light from the corner of his eye, flashing blue on the dashboard, a steady blink that made him grimace.Another. Today, of all days.
Relationships: Jack Harkness & Ianto Jones, Jack Harkness/Ianto Jones
Comments: 15
Kudos: 57
Collections: Torchwood Fan Fests: Halloween Fest 2020





	darkest of skies

Jack opened his eyes, not bothering to raise his head from where it rested against the car window. He felt the hum of the engine as he woke up, the soft vibrations of tires on an uneven road; it took him longer than usual to drag himself out of sleep, the warmth of the SUV a gentle encouragement to drift away once more.

Regardless, he looked out through the windscreen, met with the sight of headlamps on a nighttime road. Dark shapes of the hedgerow rushed past the car, illuminated only for a moment before falling away into the shadowed roadside.

He bit back a groan when the effects of the past few hours hit him full force. There was a sudden sharp pain behind his eyes, coupled with the residual ache in his middle where the now-healed fatal wound had been; he breathed hard through the onslaught of post-resurrection discomfort, remembering why he’d chosen to fall asleep in the first place.

“Alright?”

“Hm?” Jack glanced to his right, where Ianto met his eye from the driver’s seat with mild concern. “Uh - yeah. Fine.”

Moving was a stark reminder of every hit he’d taken from today’s alien. The creature was now lying dead in the boot, hastily wrapped in tarpaulin, the two having secured it as best they could for Owen’s investigations in the morning. Ianto was missing his tie and suit jacket, further victims of the alien; Jack had stepped in front of him on instinct, putting himself between Ianto and ten-inch claws. A standard Thursday evening in the Welsh countryside. He opted to stay where he was, sinking further into the seat, swallowing the bitter taste in his throat when his head began to spin.

Not that he was complaining, of course; it had been a case of him-or-Ianto, and the time it took for the creature to kill him was all that Ianto had needed. He’d sent three neat shots into each of the alien’s heads, its body dropping on Jack’s in an instant. He must have been practising, Jack had thought, taking the moment before he lost consciousness to admire the speed of the kill.

“Go back to sleep,” Ianto said, shooting him a sympathetic smile. “It’s an hour or so yet.”

Doubting the pain would let him drift off, Jack took another look at the landscape outside. The road was dark save for the headlamps, but from the height of the SUV, he could make out fields to one side that were flooded with moonlight. On Ianto’s side of the car there were black phantoms of trees, a densely wooded area staring as soon as the road stopped.

There wasn’t another car in sight.

The digital clock on the dashboard read one-sixteen in the morning; their mission had been a long one, and the distance from the sighting to Cardiff was considerable. He’d hot-footed it on the way there, but Ianto was keeping a steady pace for the return journey, despite the country roads being free of speed limits. Jack watched him blink and knew the hour must be catching up with Ianto too.

“We should bring the others next time,” Jack said. “Might speed things up a bit.”

“If you want to be the one to drag Gwen away from date night, you’re on your own.”

Jack shrugged, regretting it instantly, feeling the sting through his chest. It would not have surprised him if the skin was still knitting itself together; he couldn’t help the sharp intake of breath.

Ianto let go of the wheel with one hand and held it out to Jack. His pride be damned, he met Ianto’s hand halfway, gripping it until the wave subsided.

“Okay?” Ianto asked, knowing the answer.

“Yeah,” Jack replied, the lie coming easy.

The next few moments of the journey were spent in silence, letting the SUV’s heating wash over him. Time passed irregularly, dropping in and out of a daze; eyes half-closed, he was only disturbed when Ianto let go of his hand to change gear.

He absently watched the unchanging fields - the coast must be on the other side of them, Jack realised, making note of the blank horizon. As for what lay beyond the trees, he couldn’t say.

Sleep was threatening when he spotted the light from the corner of his eye, flashing blue on the dashboard, a steady blink that made him grimace.

“Ianto.”

Turning his head, Ianto noticed the light a second later, muttering a curse that Jack couldn’t make out. He began to pull over, slowing the SUV to a crawl. He moved neatly into the opening in front of a gate that cut through the hedgerow, closing the field ahead off from the road.

There was a sinking feeling in his stomach when the light didn’t stop, being joined by a piercing alarm just before Ianto switched off the engine. Jack pushed himself forward to silence the alarm, its pitch doing nothing to help his dizziness; the light continued to flash its warning.

He and Ianto shared a look.

“It might be nothing.”

“Yeah-”

“But-” Ianto bit his lip, tapping the steering wheel with one finger. “We should go.”

Jack glanced at the surrounding fields, noting how the shrubbery blended into one in a scene dripping with shadow. Going out there was the last thing he felt like doing, with his limbs heavy and mind sluggish, made especially unappealing since it was only the two of them against whatever had just arrived.

He sighed, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. The alarm, of course, had been a rift spike alert.

A rift spike not far from where they were parked.

Another. Today, of all days.

“Jack?” Ianto asked, his tone hesitant. “Are we investigating?” He sat on the edge of his seat, shutting the glove compartment from where he’d dug out the PDA. Ianto knew the answer to his question, but raised an eyebrow and waited for Jack’s confirmation.

“‘Course.” He plastered on a smile, sitting up straight and removing his gun from where he’d dropped it in the door. In truth, he wanted nothing more than to drive away and let the residents of the countryside fend for themselves. It’s on them for living in a place like this, he thought, suppressing a shudder - why the scenery was getting to him, he didn’t have the first clue. Jack wasn’t one to be shaken by any setting, no matter how stereotypically creepy, a characteristic that the team never failed to point out. “It’s the job,” he continued, more for his own benefit that Ianto’s.

Ianto now held his pistol and two torches, holding one out to Jack with a mirrored smile. When Jack took the torch, Ianto unclipped the seatbelt and reached for the door handle, pushing it out into the road. “Let’s catch an alien, then,” he said over his shoulder.

Jack followed suit, hit with the chill of the night air when he stepped out onto the grass. He leaned against the bonnet, taking a minute to re-orient himself, wondering idly why tonight was worse than usual. He should have got his strength back by now, surely?

His concerns were interrupted by a tentative hand on his back, and he turned to see Ianto beside him, holding the torch and car keys in his other hand, the gun already in his belt.

Jack let himself enjoy the touch for a moment, before saying, “Let’s go. I want to be home in time for breakfast.”

A rift spike this far out was unusual, and two in one day was bordering on infuriating. They could hardly ignore it - despite the rural area being near-deserted, there was no telling how much havoc the rift’s latest gift could cause. Torchwood was a twenty-four-seven kind of job, after all.

They left the SUV where it was parked, deciding it was unlikely for anyone to be needing the space at this hour. Ianto held the PDA whilst Jack stepped ahead with his torch and Webley raised.

“Where?”

“This way.”

Glancing at the PDA screen, Ianto motioned to the field beyond the gate, which was bolted shut and secured with the usual blue string. Silently hoping that the field would be empty and they wouldn’t have to contend with a bull, or some particularly angry cows, they helped each other over the gate and began to follow the faint track at the edge. The PDA was accurate but the creature - if that’s what it was - would be unlikely to stay in the same spot. They began to make their way to the origin of the spike, mindful of how much area there was to cover, and how vulnerable they were as a pair.

Jack moved a little closer to Ianto at the thought. He would rather have avoided being killed for the second time that night, since the effects still hadn’t died down - he stumbled when a raised patch of grass made him aware of a full-body tremble, blinking the fog from his eyes. The dancing light of his torch beam was almost dreamlike, and combined with a mind he couldn’t seem to clear, the moment felt surreal.

He forced himself to focus. He’d be no use to Ianto like this.

“Gate at the end,” Ianto announced, once they started to near the bottom of the field. It took Jack a minute to notice it, set low in the ground and shrouded by brambles, almost grown into the hedge.

He didn’t respond, choosing instead to put one foot in front of the other.

This gate wasn’t tied shut, and swung open onto a narrow dirt track. Jack and Ianto headed to the right, out of the open field and into a more shadowed route, which started a steady decline a few metres along. Hedgerows turned into trees and they found themselves under overhanging branches, the track now scattered with rocks. There were three or more entrances to fields along the way, but the PDA, glowing its soft blue, led them further down. The moonlight was no use down here, forcing Ianto to turn on his torch alongside Jack’s.

Besides their footsteps on the damp autumn leaves, there was not a sound to be heard.

Jack’s sleeve caught on a bramble that reached across the path, and it took him a couple of tries to tug it away. He scowled at it as it swung back, narrowly missing Ianto, who ducked out of the way and almost lost his balance on the uneven ground.

Ianto swore under his breath. “This doesn’t bode well,” he said, taking another look at the PDA with a sigh. “And it’s still further on.”

Purely from a tactical point of view - and nothing to do with the chill down his spine - the area they’d found themselves in was too big of a risk to be comfortable. The edges of the track had started to rise into backs, leaving them exposed below. There was nowhere to run but backwards, as the trees had thickened on either side; moving forward would only take them further into the dark and unruly corners.

“Is it just me,” Jack said, “or does this seem far enough?”

“Not according to the rift,” Ianto replied. “But I’m with you. It feels wrong.”

“Care to expand on that?”

It wasn’t like Jack didn’t feel the same. He’d hoped Ianto wasn’t reacting in a similar way to how he was - like a permanent shiver, the place set him on edge.

Ianto paused for a minute. “Not to sound cliché, but it’s like we’re being watched.”

Jack stopped in his tracks, listening intently, and Ianto took his lead without a word. They held their torches up to the surrounding trees, seeing nothing but shadows which jumped and twisted across the light.

The sound of the wind was muted.

Movement behind the branches was nothing but a breeze; an animal, perhaps, or the torchlight playing tricks on Jack’s eyes - he beat down the paranoia, feeling his heart race in a rather uncharacteristic way. He’d feel safer, he knew, if they kept moving.

Jack reached up and held the back of Ianto’s neck, pulling him close and pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“C’mon,” he said, following the kiss with a touch to Ianto’s shoulder. “Whatever this is, it’s not getting through me.”

The two kept moving, making an effort to keep their footsteps quiet. The path narrowed until they couldn’t walk side-by-side and Jack subconsciously took the lead, resisting the urge to turn back and make sure Ianto was close behind. Despite what he’d said, he wasn’t confident in his ability to hold anything off, alone or otherwise; he’d expected the night air to do some good, but the trees now felt to be weighing down on him, pushing him further into the haze. It wasn’t so much the pain as it was a cold, leaden feeling that something wasn’t right.

There was a vague familiarity - if only he could reach out and grasp it.

The path opened out into a grassy space, littered with trees and shrubbery, smaller tracks forking off in three directions. It was hardly a relief; they were perhaps more exposed here than they had been in the path, with the irregular array of vegetation a perfect place in which a creature could lie in wait. The paths were faint, too, and he wasn’t sure which were real and which could be animal tracks that led to nowhere.

Nor was the light any better. A cloud had passed over the moon, and if it hadn’t been for the torches, they’d never have noticed the change in surroundings.

“It’s close,” Ianto muttered. “Can’t be far from here.” He kept his voice low, stowing the PDA in his pocket, choosing to keep his pistol ready instead.

Jack straightened his grip on his own gun. He didn’t need to confirm that they should stick together; moving as one, they wordlessly chose the path to the left.

The clouds didn’t clear in the time it took to follow the path, losing sight of the other two as they walked deeper into the shrubbery. Considering for a moment that it may not even be living, Jack tried to banish the worry that was growing with every step they took, with every barely audible hitch in Ianto’s breath when the branches shuddered. Whatever the rift had brought might be dead, or better yet, something like a plant for Owen’s collection, or a new piece of tech to hand to an excitable Tosh in the morning. It was likely, if he counted up ratios of past cases, that the thing would be no danger to them. Even with these reassurances, he couldn’t help but feel that the shadows were thrown with ill intent.

He made sure Ianto was beside him before whispering, “If we don’t find anything now, we can come back in the morning. I doubt it’ll be disturbed if it’s inanimate.”

“Or killed.” Ianto didn’t meet his eye, keeping a watch on the trees to his right.

“You read my mind.”

“We can bring the-”

Ianto cut off sharply, freezing where he stood, his pistol raised and mouth half-open. He narrowed his eyes at the scene to the side.

Jack turned to where he was looking; it was a thick patch of greenery, obscured by branches that looked black when bathed in the torchlight. Nothing stuck out to him at first - at least, there was no movement, or anything obviously alien - but Ianto gestured with the hand that gripped the torch, letting the beam land in the more specific area he fixed his gaze upon, a few metres from the path.

“What do you see?”

Before responding, Ianto half-heartedly hit his torch in an effort to stop the bulb flickering. “That,” he said, giving it a shake, “should be overgrown.”

“What?”

“There.”

Jack squinted into the dark. Sure enough, there was a structure in the trees, standing at just over his own height, that was a little odd compared to the rest of the landscape. Whilst every rock and fallen branch was coated in a thick covering of plants, this stood free of vines and brambles.

“Weird rock?” Ianto suggested. “Monument?”

“Monument to…?”

“The joys of the Welsh countryside.”

Jack shrugged. “Not like it’s causing any trouble.”

“You don’t think it’s worth a look?”

He shook his head, not trusting himself to speak out of fear it would betray the shake in his throat. Truth be told, it had got worse the moment they’d stopped, and Jack still wasn’t entirely sure what _it_ was, other than a heightening sensation of wrongness.

And, besides - whatever was causing this, it wasn’t going to be a motionless rock.

Jack turned his back on the stone, continuing on the path they’d chosen, hearing Ianto catch up with him a moment later.

They had followed the path for a few minutes when Jack’s torch began to flicker. The light dipped in and out, jumping back to life almost as soon as it disappeared, but enough to obscure the way ahead.

“Batteries?” He muttered, hoping someone had neglected to change them.

“I charge them up after every mission,” Ianto said. “But Owen might have been using them again. I do tell him, if he keeps losing his medical torch...”

He cut off when he caught sight of Jack’s expression, staring ahead and tuned out of his words.

“I’m not going to push it,” Ianto continued. “But I know there’s something wrong.”

There was no use in hiding it; Jack hadn’t wanted to worry him unnecessarily, but the feeling was growing worse by the minute. It wasn’t normal concern but a pull in the opposite direction, an inexplicable need to run.

He turned to Ianto, letting it rise to the surface. “You have to be feeling it too,” he said.

“Feel what, Jack?”

“How do you not-” he stopped, realising how little use it was to explain; all he wanted was to make it back to the Hub in one piece, and taking the time to voice an irrational fear wasn’t getting them any closer. “Let’s just get this over,” he growled, shifting to the defensive.

“Alright, then,” Ianto sighed. “Keep me posted.”

They didn’t make it more than a few paces until both torches flashed off at the same time, sending them both into darkness; it lasted for no more than a few seconds until they turned back on again, one before the other, their weak glow fluctuating. Nearly walking into each other when they stopped, they turned on the spot to check their surroundings.

A hand appeared on his arm and Jack glanced at Ianto, who stared off to the left of the path, flickering torch held up high.

“That wasn’t there before.”

Something in Ianto’s tone sent heat rushing through him, a sharp fear that only grew when he saw what the light had landed on; the same shape as before - taller, this time - smooth where the last had been rugged, the markings pronounced, with the torch beam flowing over every curve, shadows dripping from carved stone.

The wind whispered to him.

From experiences such as his - the Agency, to when he last travelled with a Time Lord, and every road he took in between - one can learn to understand time, to feel its fragility. Touch it as if it’s a facet of the physical world. Sense the cracks, the weakness, the potential to change.

And know when something is wrong.

The weight in his stomach, he realised far too late, was not the after-effect of resurrection, not any more; rather, it was a sign of _them_ , of their presence, his body giving a hushed warning.

“Ianto,” he muttered, unsure of what else to say.

His hand found Ianto’s sleeve, gripping convulsively at the fabric. He wanted nothing more than to run, aware of the vortex manipulator sitting heavy and useless on his wrist.

Jack didn’t run. He kept his eyes on the shape through the trees. That was all he could do.

“What’s the matter?” Ianto asked, picking up on the need to keep quiet. Not that it would help them now. “Jack?”

“I know them.”

“Them?” he prompted.

Jack took a moment to respond. When he did, his voice was no louder than the soft cry of the wind.

“It’s the Angels,” he whispered, frozen where he stood. “Ianto - you mustn’t blink.”

“I- what?”

“Look at it, please, just don’t turn away-”

“Jack, what’s it going to-”

“Just _look at it._ ”

He didn’t dare move, as if that would halt the next few moments - like a kid playing hide-and-seek games on afternoon sand, he wouldn’t be seen if he stayed perfectly still. As still as a statue.

The only thing that became clear in the adrenaline-felled blur was the sting of his eyes.

“Jack,” Ianto hissed, trying to get his attention with a sharp shove.

The touch made him start and he blinked involuntarily, the seconds slowing down as he looked back at the Angel; as far as he could tell through a watering gaze, it hadn’t moved an inch, remaining where it was in the shadow of the trees. He let himself breathe.

“It might still be too weak to move,” he said. “We gotta get out of here. Now.”

“Are we going for backup?”

“Just go backwards, don’t close your eyes-”

“What will it do?”

He kept his grip on Ianto’s wrist, starting to step back as he locked his gaze with the statue. From this angle, he could make out the hands covering its face, as if it were hiding - an instinctive response, perhaps? The textbooks and warnings ran through his mind. They covered their eyes to avoid each other’s eternal stare…

Which implied there could be more than one.

“Do as I say, okay?” he began, letting the authority spill through his words. “Guns are useless. They move faster than I can describe, but only if they’re not being watched-”

“So, no blinking.” Ianto’s voice was barely steady. “They’re aggressive?”

“They’ll send you back in time. I’ll explain later.”

“Promise?”

“Sure. Now, get behind me. Face the other way.”

Ianto moved until they were pressed together back-to-back. With pistols stowed away, they gripped each other’s hand. How easy it would be to turn and run; if the Angel caught him, which it would before Jack could move a step, the effects would be catastrophic. Displacing him from his timeline would generate potential energy on a whole different scale to any mortal being - an Angel feeding off eternity would give them strength like they may not have experienced before, enough to share around, to reproduce, to grow right here in rural Wales. Survival for their species would no longer be the only goal.

If he shut his eyes.

“I can’t see any others,” Ianto said.

“Doesn’t mean they’re not around.”

“What’s the plan?”

“Don’t panic. Start walking back to the field, and I’ll follow-”

There was a tug on his hand and he felt Ianto move, cautiously following the path they’d come down. He began to step backwards and follow Ianto’s lead, eyes still fixed on the Angel. Jack tried his hardest not to look at his torch, which was still unsteady, knowing what would happen if it turned off completely; in the cover of clouds and trees, he’d lose sight of it as soon as the light died. Careful not to move the torch beam, he rubbed at his eyes one at a time, a futile effort to stop them watering.

They reached a bend in the path and he lost sight of the Angel around the corner, but he couldn’t let his gaze drop, as any darkened shape could be halfway towards waking. Jack began to run through their options; there was nothing Torchwood could do to neutralise them, even if they made it back to the Hub, and he doubted UNIT would be of any more use. Certainly, nothing on this Earth would. The Time Agency had been unyielding in its Angel policy - should you encounter one, the first port of call is teleportation. Failing that: run.

But remember not to blink.

“Let me swap with you,” Ianto whispered.

He considered declining, but the Angel was out of sight, and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could force his eyes open. “Yeah. Turn around…”

Without letting go of his hand, Ianto faced the same way and stood by his side. “It’s gone?”

“Probably following.”

Ianto took a shaky breath. “Bloody hell.”

“Be careful.” Jack closed his eyes as he turned to the front, taking the moment to give in to the pain and the salt on his cheeks. He had no gauge of how far they’d come, and hoped it wasn’t long until they reached the SUV; a small part of him was shocked he could think rationally, what with the warnings that had been present in the back of his mind since before he left home. The Agency hadn’t spared trainees the chilling details. They’d all had nightmares about the Angels; even the strongest of them.

Jack couldn’t afford to get lost in it. Only when Ianto was safe could he let himself be afraid.

The burning had dissipated, just enough for him to look up-

Empty eyes met his own, set wide in a face that was grotesque and twisted; its mouth hung open, baring teeth in a frozen scream-

His heart leapt into his mouth and he jumped back, colliding with Ianto, who spun to face the Angel. Ianto’s cry sent a second shock though him and he must have blinked, must have looked away, because the face flashed even closer in the half-second it took to react.

“Oh, God-”

“Ianto-”

He could barely breathe, pulse roaring in his ears.

“How did it-”

“Ianto, check behind us-”

Jack knew what he was asking of him, realised the impossibility of turning your back on a sight like the Angel’s gaping stare, but he felt Ianto move all the same, gripping Jack’s wrist with more force than before. He held eye contact with the angel, refusing to let it hurt, pressing his teeth together and trying not to notice the outstretched hand.

“It’s clear,” Ianto’s voice said, laced with adrenaline. “I think.”

“Ok. Move.”

The time it took to move even a few paces back was almost more than he could handle. Having been barely a foot away from the Angel’s touch, every fibre of him was screaming to get away as fast as he could. But their steps were slow and measured, his focus being on not letting any sudden movement shock him into blinking or looking away.

As if he could look away, faced with a sight he’d only seen in drawings. Nobody who’d seen the Angel’s face had lasted long enough to take a photograph.

Ianto’s grip began to hurt; it had somewhat of a grounding effect, and Jack was grateful for the vice-like hold to focus on. The further they walked, the more the Angel was lost in the distance. They both knew they couldn’t risk swapping again and unanimously sped up.

Jack didn’t notice they’d entered the covered path until the Angel disappeared around a bend once again.

His torch dipped out. When it turned on again the statue was back, standing tall in the centre of the path a few metres away, eyes covered as if it were crying-

He must have reacted, either with a movement or a word, because Ianto responded without turning from the front. “It moved, didn’t it?”

“Yeah, it’s here-”

“Shit.”

“Just go.”

How they’d made it this far, he didn’t understand - it must be weak from travelling through the rift, or else they’d be gone from the first time the torch faded out. Touched one after the other, too quickly to notice who was caught first, propelled back across the expanses of time and tearing it open for the Angels to thrive upon.

Just for a second, in the midst of panic, he wondered what it would be like to travel a world away from Torchwood, a fresh start somewhere old but brand new. Nobody besides him and Ianto.

It wouldn’t be the same as death, but closing his eyes and letting go - waiting only a moment for the cold touch of stone - he hoped could offer a gentle departure, an escape.

And they wouldn’t feel a thing.

Ianto’s voice, slightly frantic, brought him back to the present. “What are we going to do?”

“Nothing.”

“What d'you mean?” He spoke with a whisper, but it was far from quiet - more of a hiss.

“If we intervene, we can only make things worse-”

“It’s the job.”

He didn’t miss how Ianto mirrored Jack’s own phrasing from earlier.

“And sometimes, the job is to look the other way. I’ll explain when it’s safe.”

“Sir,” Ianto said. “Jack. snap out of it. This isn’t like you-”

“This,” Jack replied, making no effort to keep the agitation from his voice, “is nothing like we’ve encountered before. I mean that. With these -” he faltered when he realised how far back the statue was, once again blending into the distance - “I’m gonna be the coward. That’s all we can do.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“And you don’t understand.”

“I’m sure I- _Jesus-_ ”

Ianto cut off.

His tone could only mean one thing. Even without the hand tightening on his wrist as confirmation, it was unmistakable. Knowing he was facing away from it sent a chill through Jack’s body, a familiar bitterness, and he swallowed down the part of him that wanted to break.

“It’s back. God, it’s...”

“Don’t blink, okay?”

“Yeah.” Ianto swallowed. “I can’t do this,” he said. “Jack, please-”

“Focus, Ianto. Follow me.”

It was all he could do not to look back at the Angel he knew was there. Taking the lead this time, Jack pulled Ianto’s hand around and started up the path, catching a glimpse of stone out of the corner of his eye; he began slow and sped up when he realised where they were, noticing a gate ahead, one of the first preceding the one they had to take.

His eyes, still opened wide, had gone numb. He barely noticed the tears that flowed freely when they stepped out of the path and into open space, hit with a wind that had picked up since the start.

He cast all his energy on counting the gates as they passed. One, two, and Ianto cried out-

“The torch-”

Without thinking, Jack passed his own torch back to Ianto, who took it after throwing his own on the ground, the bulb dying for good when it hit the grass. Without the cover of trees, Jack could just make out the route they had to take, and the next gate in the hedgerow. And the one after that.

He pulled back the bolt and pushed it open, turning to check Ianto was following. Closing the gate wouldn’t slow an Angel down, so he let it swing when Ianto followed him through.

“Is it there?” he asked.

“Can’t see it.”

He was beyond logic, and knew Ianto was too; hand-in-hand they gave in and ran, building up to a sprint across the field. They were halfway towards the end when Jack turned around, and seeing the land behind them free of shadowed figures, kept up the pace until they neared the second gate.

“Wait here,” Jack said when they reached it, tugging at Ianto’s hand until his back was against the gate.

“It’s at the end of the field.”

A moment more and they would have been gone.

There was no time to dwell on it, so Jack climbed the gate without reply, taking over the watch on the Angel - a faraway shape that stood with covered eyes - when he landed on the other side. Ianto followed as soon as he gave the word.

He heard Ianto dig for the car keys and the buzz of the SUV’s locks a moment later. The door opened and shut, and he responded to Ianto’s shout by tearing his eyes away from the field, running for the door and throwing himself in as Ianto did his best to watch through the back window.

“Go, go-”

He slammed the door behind him and the SUV accelerated, throwing him into the seat before he had a chance to orient himself. Struggling to get his breath back, he watched in the rearview mirror, expecting the glass to crack at any moment and a stone hand to catch him unawares.

If the Angel had followed, then Ianto was driving too fast for either man to make it out. He showed no sign of slowing.

“So,” Jack panted. “You can drive like-”

“Shut up,” Ianto said, and it was near to a shout. “Now you tell me, what are we going to do?”

“Concentrate on the road.” He knew he’d have to justify it eventually.

“Why the bloody hell are we running, Sir?”

The _Sir_ was said with strength, almost accusatory, a reminder of his responsibility. He cast a paranoid glance out of the window, yet again making sure they weren’t followed.

“I don’t think it’s going to move far. It’s still weak.” Jack let his words fill with the message - he was in control, and Ianto needn’t ask. He knew it was fruitless.

“And what about when it’s not? Hm?”

“If that thing gets ahold of me, the energy it’ll gain will be astronomical.”

There was a moment of silence before Ianto raised his eyebrows. “Tell me how?”

“It’ll… displace me.” He didn’t have the strength left to explain it in full. “And, because it’s me, they’ll only get stronger. It’s best I stay away.”

“What about us? Or UNIT?”

“Ianto, please. Forget it’s there.”

He laughed with no humour. “I can’t forget that face.”

“Yeah.” He wished there was some way to reassure Ianto, to explain to him that running was their only option. Run and hope it weakens itself to dormancy. Grows into the landscape like it never moved to begin with. “But you trust me?”

Ianto bit his lip and gave no further indication. “One day, Jack, you’re going to have to start explaining. I know there are things I’ll never be able to know -” he cut off, and seemed to grip the steering wheel tighter - “but surely this can’t sit right with you.”

He shook his head. “Never said it did. Now, just drive. Please.”

The road was much the same as it had been earlier, besides the trees on the other side of it, their branches swaying in a growing wind. Jack glanced at the clock on the dashboard.

Its light had gone out.

“If that thing catches a civilian, I’ll never forgive myself,” Ianto spoke up, not yet willing to let it drop.

“And neither will I,” he sighed. “Look. Me getting caught will be a hundred times worse than the harm they can do out here.”

“That’s still harm.”

“I might think of something. But you gotta trust me.”

“So you keep saying.”

If Jack knew anything about Ianto, he wasn’t going to give up this. No matter how hard Jack tried, he realised he could never instil the same caution he himself had when it came to the Angels, the one that told him giving up was the only option. Ianto had to understand, though, that for Jack Harkness to walk away, it had to be unsolvable; turning his back was not something he did lightly.

Nor did he take lightly to the others being in danger.

Which they would be. If Ianto told them.

There were some parts of Jack that had never seemed to leave, those deceitful and solitary corners of his mind, the ones that instructed him with the morals of lives gone by. To move on from this, to leave it until if and when he found a solution, was only for the best. For his own safety, and that of the team.

There’s nothing like a visit from his past, a reminder of the rules he once adhered to, to remind him of the man he was.

And Jack made a decision.

Sending the rear-view mirror a final glance, he dug a hand into his pocket, making sure to keep it out of Ianto’s view. He held the contents in a fist. Once a conman, always a conman, he thought with bitter reluctance; how quickly he was able to slip into deceiving Ianto, and how comfortably, still came as a shock.

“Pass me the water?” Jack asked, leaning back in his seat to begin the act.

Ianto complied, reaching into the door on his side of the car and passing it across. He didn’t respond, but kept his eyes on the road, tapping at the steering wheel once again.

He unscrewed the lid, holding it with two hands. Feigned taking a drink. Offered it to Ianto with the lid still missing, who took it gratefully.

Jack waited a few moments, trying his hardest not to let this get to him. They’d never agreed to honesty. Not entirely. There were some things to be kept buried, and that, Ianto understood. It still wasn’t any excuse.

Ianto blinked. Rubbed at his eyes.

He pretended not to notice.

“Can you pull over?” Jack asked, grasping at the door handle, hating how relieved he felt that the shake in his hand was genuine.

A few metres on and Ianto stopped the car in a small space at the edge of the road. He turned to Jack, who made a show of unclipping his seatbelt. “You feeling alright?” he asked.

“Yeah, yeah-”

It happened instantly. Ianto opened his mouth to reply but his eyes rolled back into his head, the breath catching in his throat as he tipped forwards, body going limp over the steering wheel; Jack reached out and caught him by the shoulders before he fell to the side, gathering him into his arms.

He was breathing softly, dead to the world.

“‘m sorry.” Jack stroked his hair, kissing his forehead and then his lips, hugging Ianto close; he fought back the sting that jumped into his eyes, blinking with anger and biting it down. “I’m sorry, Ianto.”

As much as he wanted to stay with Ianto’s warmth pressed close to his chest, they hadn’t driven far. He was on a clock to get them back to the city. He sat up to make a move, the stories and excuses circling his mind.

“Alien pheromones,” Jack said, out of breath as he dragged Ianto’s unconscious body over the gearstick and into the passenger seat. “From our friend in the boot. You were affected, I wasn’t, fifty-first-century biology, etcetera-”

He secured the seatbelt tight, taking off his coat and draping it over Ianto as an afterthought.

“It knocked you out cold. You’ll wake up with one hell of a headache. Won’t remember anything since-” he checked his watch - “since before the alien killed me. Which it didn’t. Not anymore.”

Jack shut the door and stepped round to the driver’s seat. He climbed in and continued.

“There’ll be a fault in the tracker in the SUV. No second mission.” He started the engine and changed gear, perhaps with too much force. “And no Angels.”

With one last check that the packet of Retcon was hidden in his pocket, Jack gripped the steering wheel and pulled away, the nighttime road to Cardiff obscured by the blur in his eyes.

* * *

If the Llandaff Cathedral had a brand new statue in the grounds that morning, the caretaker didn’t pay it much attention.

**Author's Note:**

> alternate title: just dooont Blink (*chameleon circuit riff*)
> 
> the title is from Miracle by CHVRCHES, and the full line is 'we're looking for angels in the darkest of skies,' bc i felt like dropping an obscure hint & that song slaps
> 
> this is an unedited mess, but comments are appreciated!


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